509 days after a wizard cursed the REALM…
Current Version:
On Samhain, the walls between the worlds break down. The Otherworlds spill into the REALM and the REALM spills into the Otherworlds. Elves and their Pookas join up with various Faery factions and witch delegations in a grand parade that lasts until they all pass out, wakes up again, and scamper back to their respective worlds.
But the physical worlds aren’t the only ones to be connected and separated again. At this same time of every year, barriers also drop between Lands of the Living and Lands of the Dead.
If this were a traditional story, it might include a mortal tricking the Reaper, riding with the Ferryman across the River of Forgetfulness, sneaking past the three-headed canine Guardian of the Dead, and bargaining with the Sovereigns of the Underworld for a loved one’s return. However, in the spirit of originality, we’ll be talking about Melvin.
Melvin had been a proud member of the Living for his entire lifetime, until the NIGHTfall incident, when he found himself on the wrong side of an Apocalypse Beast’s stomach.
Specifically, the inside.
Most souls might despair at the prospect of remaining trapped within the bowels of a beast for a century or more, but Melvin had always been a natural optimist. During his prematurely shortened lifetime, Melvin displayed a talent for seeing every glass as half full and every dark tunnel as a conduit toward a promising light.
For a freshly minted soul, moving down a tunnel toward the light is usually the path to a final resting place. Unfortunately, in this case, the tunnel Melvin found himself in was a couple-hundred feet of Apocalypse Beast intestine, and the light was a loose sphincter that the beast hadn’t yet had a chance to consult its proctologist about.
Leaving his body behind, Melvin squeaked his soul through the available opening with a noise that made the Apocalypse Beast blush at all the attention it drew from its bretheren.
Since then, Melvin’s spirit has floated around the REALM, ineffectually trying to interact with physical matter, unable to fully depart from the physical world. “But at least I no longer have to worry about having to tie my shoes,” Melvin often thinks, in his characteristic optimism.
On this Samhain, his first as a disembodied ghost, Melvin finds himself becoming solid, touching the ground, and frequently tripping over his shoelaces. “But at least I can smell the grass again,” he thinks.
“Melvin of the Village.”
Melvin lifts himself back up and brushes the dirt from his knees, chest, and arms. A Crowheaded woman stands in front of him, expectantly. “I’m no longer Melvin,” he tells her. “And I’m technically no longer from the Village, or anywhere else for that matter. And anyway, the Village just is a ruin these days.”
“Formerly Melvin, formerly of the former Village,” says the woman. “I am Bikaw of the Crowhead Coven, and I believe we can help each other.”
“I’m always happy to help out those in need,” says Formerly Melvin, “and even happier to be helped when I’m the one in need. Unless that’s just salesman-speak for trying to sell me something. But, oh! The good thing about being dead is, I have no money left to protect, which makes me immune to fraud.”
“I don’t require money,” says Bikaw. “I require a passage back to my home.”
“And in return?”
“In return I can help to free your spirit, allowing you to travel onward to your eternity.”
Formerly Melvin shrugs. “Sure. Can’t say I have anything better to do anyway.”
Web3 Draft:
- Listed on OpenSea
- Listed on Rarible
Revision Notes:
To be added.
